


Random Chance

by mggislife2789 (dontshootmespence)



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Bookstores, F/M, Fluff, Neighbors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:42:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22528870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontshootmespence/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: Y/N yields to peer pressure and Spencer loses a bet. Did fate bring them together or was it random chance?Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry. ;)
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader, Spencer Reid/You
Comments: 9
Kudos: 85





	1. Chapter 1

This was the fifth outfit change.

“Why did I let you talk me into this?” You screamed, glancing into the mirror before ripping off your shirt and pants for a sixth outfit. “Speed dating? Fuck my life. This is peer pressure. You suck.”

Under pressure, filled with nervous tension, you tended to run your mouth, and right now Piper was at the opposing end of your razor sharp sword. But she still had a smile on her face. “You need to get out there and you won’t do it yourself, so I had to push you,” she laughed, pushing passed the mountain of packed boxes and pulling one of your favorite dresses out of the closet. 

“A dress? Really? For speed dating?”

Dating sucked. It was the most horrible thing ever. All you wanted was to fall into the perfect relationship and then cuddle on the couch. Was that so much to ask? 

Piper laughed and stood behind you, holding the dress over your body. “Yes, it’s not an evening gown or anything. And it’s you. Just because you’re going speed dating doesn’t mean the guys you meet shouldn’t see exactly who you are.”

As much of a pain in the ass as she was, Piper was still your bestie, since you were in diapers. And she wanted the best for you. She’d pulled out your Harry Potter dress, the one with the first chapter’s words written all over. “Pair that with your cute red flats and the guys will be falling over themselves to get to you and the ones that don’t are stupid.”

You snorted and stepped into the flats, taking yet another glance into the dreaded mirror. “You know you couldn’t have picked a worse time for me to go speed dating,” you said, finally content with your outfit. Within the week, you’d be moving and starting a new job at the local community college. “Next week, dude.”

“Life’s too short to wait,” she said, playfully smacking your butt. “Plus, at least it’s at that kitschy bookstore you love. Now go take a nice relaxing walk and breathe. You’ll be fine. I gotta go to work.”

“Text me when you get there so I know you’re safe,” you call, hearing the thud of the heavy apartment door close behind her.  
After grabbing your red sweater, you headed down the stairs, locking the door behind you. The bookstore was only a few blocks away and it was a beautiful day out, so you decided to take advantage of the sunny weather.

A breeze brushes through your hair as you walk and the sun beats down on your skin. There are a few other people around, but mostly people are at work. You would be too if it weren’t for the whole “new job, new place, new life” kick you were on. Decided to take a few weeks off before starting your new job. 

The entrance to the Old Fox bookstore was as obnoxious as could be, at least when compared to the rest of the stores on the block. The door was painted a bright red, but it was somewhat worn by age. The store opened up during the 60s and it was still just as popular today.  
Like the three bears, the store wasn’t a giant chain or a teeny tiny hole in the wall, it was just right. The walls were a muted turquoise, which you’d alway loved. Everyone seemed to think that neutral was the way to go but you’d always been a fan of in your face color - at least after your goth teen years. 

Noise filled the air - not normal for this place - it was always on quiet side, but given the event you weren’t surprised. Seemed to be an equal amount of men and women, which made you feel a little better, not wanting to be outnumbered.

Since there was still a little time to waste before everything started, you figured there wasn’t any harm in looking for another book or two...or five. One of the first things you planned to put up in your new apartment was this scratch-off list, kind of like a lottery ticket, the listed nearly 200 classics. You'd read a lot of them before, but there were still some that you hadn’t, so maybe you could find one and pick it up before the nausea-inducing speed dating began. 

After reading Good Omens, you’d been hankering for another Neil Gaiman book, so you slithered between the masses in the store toward the section in question. American Gods, Anansi Boys, Eternity’s Wheel, you weren’t sure which one to pick. 

All - all was a good choice, right?

The colorful spines of the books called out to you, another one of Gaiman’s works. Your hand crawled along the edges of the nearby books, your hand just brushing up against someone else’s as you reached for The Graveyard Book. “Oh, sorry,” you said, staring up into the face of a beautiful stranger. He was thin and tall with delicate features, but he had a sharp jaw and deep set hazel eyes that were complemented by wavy brown hair. “I’m apparently on a Gaiman binge. Have you read any of his stuff before?”

“Yea,” he replied, eyeing the stack of books already in your hand. “American Gods, Good Omens and Eternity’s Wheel. I tend to read textbooks most of the time, but I’ve been told I should delve into more fun reading, so-”

He cut himself off and took the book off the shelf, offering it to you. “You saw it first.” Aw, gallant, too. “I’m Spencer by the way.”

“Y/N,” you said, extending your hand. “What brings you here? You live around here?”

Spencer glanced toward the tables set up for speed dating. “No, actually I lost a bet to two friends of mine and if I lost I had to go speed dating. Can’t say I’m all that comfortable with it.”

“Me either,” you laughed. “My friend Piper peer pressured me into it. I don’t drink but somehow she got me to agree to this.”

The owner of the store gave a five minute warning that speed dating was about to start. “So how long will it take you to read those?” He shifted on the balls of his feet, probably nervous, which you understood. 

“Well, I have a few weeks off while I move apartments and start a new job, so these...probably four, five days.” You laughed, feeling every inch the nerd you were. “Been an avid reader since I was a kid. Why do you read textbooks though? Fiction is so much more fun.”

“I can read 20,000 words per minute and I’m always trying to absorb as much knowledge as I can. Helps with the work I do.”

“Which is?” He was cute and intriguing.

“I’m an FBI profiler for the Behavioral Analysis Unit at Quantico.”

And smart. Shit. There had to be something wrong with him. Dream guys like this didn’t grow on trees. “Impressive, Spencer. What’s your background in?”

He looked down at the ground, almost like he was embarrassed, speaking softly. “I have BAs in psychology, sociology and philosophy, as well as PhDs in mathematics, chemistry and engineering.”

“Oh my god,” you laughed. Really smart. Like stupid smart. “That’s amazing.”

“Really?”

“Of course!” How could that not be amazing? “Why?”

“It’s just that people normally think I’m a freak for having so many.” 

You wanted to punch whoever made him feel that way. “Definitely not a freak, just insanely impressive considering you’re so young.” He couldn’t have been much older than you. Maybe five years at the most.

“I started college when I was 12.”

As the owner called out to start the most awkward dating experience known to man, you turned to Spencer. “Hey, would you maybe want to get out of here? Go grab a cup of coffee? I mean, we both had friends insist we come here, but we never said we actually had to go through with it.”  
Tension fell from his shoulders, like he could finally be at ease. “I’d like that. I’m really not good at this whole date thing,” he said nervously. “Just a heads up.”

Both of you shuffled over to the register, so you could pay for your books. “Neither am I, don’t worry. I’d prefer to just magically be in a relationship and not have to work for it, you know?”

“Absolutely, so Y/N, what do you do for a living? What’s the new job?”

Now it was your turn to be embarrassed, well not embarrassed, intimidated. “It’s definitely not as fancy as FBI profiler. I have my master’s degree in English literature. I’m going for a PhD too, but to pay for the half of my doctorate that scholarship won’t, I’m teaching. First, it was an online course through a University in New Hampshire where I’d travel occasionally, even though I live her, but now I got a job at the local community college.”

“That’s awesome,” he said, seeming genuinely interested. “What’s the focus on your thesis?”

So few people asked you that. Most people’s eyes glazed over when you talked about books. Everyone except your mom. “Analyzing Othello through the lends of racism as it relates to the Elizabethan period.”

After handing the cashier your money, you and Spencer walked out together, talking about your favorite Shakespeare plays, when he bumped into someone. A muscular, equally tall black guy. “Hey, kid. Funny meeting you here. Aren’t you supposed to be fulfilling your end of the deal? You lose, you speed date?”

He was one of Spencer’s friends. That much was obvious. But Spencer looked 1001% done with his bullshit - whatever it was. “Y/N, this is my friend Derek Morgan. We work together at the FBI. Morgan, this is Y/N.”

“Well, hello, Y/N.” A charmer. 

“Good to meet you,” you replied on a laugh. “Technically, he didn’t go speed dating. Neither did I and I promised my friend Piper I would, but...he is leaving with a date.” You grabbed Spencer’s hand, a jolt of something awesome moving through you at his touch. “We’re going for a cup of coffee now actually.”

“Yea, so as you see, I’m the one busy with a woman right now.” Morgan seemed quite the ladies man and Spencer looked mighty proud of himself right now. “See you tomorrow at work?”

“See you tomorrow,” Morgan replied, a note of surprise in his voice. “Nice to meet you Y/N.”

“You too. I sense we’ll be seeing more of each other.”

When you both walked away, you pulled The Graveyard Book out of your bag and handed it to Spencer. “You read this first. I think this date might go pretty well, but if you have this, then you have to return it to me and I’m guaranteed to see you again.”

Spencer smiled, his fingers tightening around yours. “I’ll have to thank Morgan for being a pain in my ass.”

“So, you lost a bet?”

“Yea, he bet I couldn’t go a day without spouting statistics and I lost. I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Piper just peer pressured me. Guess I’ll have to thank her too.”

The strong, heady scent of coffee began to fill your nostrils as you approached the cafe. When he opened the door, he seemed to finally catch a glimpse of your dress. “Wait, is that the first chapter of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone on your dress?”

“Yup. I’m a Slytherin by the way.”

“Oh, you definitely won’t need a guarantee to see me again, as long as you want to, I think I’m smitten.”

Piper was going to get a big hug later. Maybe dinner. And lots of wine.


	2. Its Simplicity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a chance meeting at a bookstore, Y/N and Spencer find themselves surprised again.

“My legs feel like lead,” Piper mumbled, following behind you with a giant moving box in her grasp.

It had to be your fifth trip up the stairs to your new second floor apartment, but it was worth it. Until you started your new job money was tight so you weren’t about to hire movers for something you and Piper could do - slowly but surely that is. 

“Why didn’t you get movers?” She bitched. Her bitchy and whiney were very similar and you couldn’t help but laugh.

Backing into the door, you pushed it open and dropped the next box onto the floor before flopping onto the one piece of furniture you’d managed to get up the steps so far - the ottoman for your reading chair. “Because it’s a lot of money. I’m not rolling in it you know.”

“But I’m in pain,” she whined. “Can we at least take a break?”

You mumbled in response, though it was practically drowned out by the raucous gargling of your stomach. “Yes, we need food. Crappy Kraft?”  
Somehow you managed to move your seemingly weighed down body off the ottoman and toward the kitchen, bare now, but would hopefully resemble a 50s style diner once you were finished. Dream kitchen. You grabbed a pot out of one of the boxes in the kitchen and boiled some water before pouring in a disgusting three boxes worth of Kraft Mac and Cheese. Triple bypass in no time. 

“Okay, so tell me about the boy? How come you haven’t gone on another date? I feel like a matchmaker. I need details.” Piper got hyper when she talked about your dating life. 

Spencer said he’d call when he could, but right after he did, he got called away on a case for work. He’d texted sporadically, but you hadn’t heard from him in half a day or so. Apparently, the case was harder to solve than he originally thought. “There’s not much to say other than what I told you about the bookstore,” you laughed. No one in the world could replace Piper, she was your one and only bestie for all of time, but occasionally you did like keeping things to yourself. “We’ve texted a few times since but he’s busy with work so he said he’d call when he gets back.”

Heavy footsteps told you someone else was coming up the stairs and Piper had left her box of your stuff outside the door. “Sorry about the box outside. Moving in! I’ll get it out of your way!”

You ran to the door while the water came to a boil only to see a familiar face. “Spencer!”

“Y/N? What are you doing here?”

An almost painful smile spread across your face. “Moving in. This is my new place.” 

Piper came running to the door, all traces of exhaustion from before gone from her face. “This is Spencer? Wait, you live here too? Oh my god, how cute is this.”

“Piper, Spencer. Spencer, this is my best friend Piper.”

“So you’re the one that peer pressured her into speed dating?”

“The one and only. I’m a matchmaker.” She glanced back and saw the water boiling. “Oh, I got this. You do your thing.”

As she ran off to prepare your shitty mac and cheese, Spencer laughed. “She reminds me of my friend Penelope. Also fancies herself a matchmaker.” A light-hearted silence fell between you for a moment before he pointed to the apartment across the hall. “That’s my place.”

“This is hysterical,” you said, almost unbelievingly. “Well, it’ll be easier for us to plan dates this way.”

“Speaking of, I just got home from a case. Would you want to grab dinner tonight?”

Piper screamed a resounding yes from the kitchen, which made you go beat red. “I would’ve said yes, too,” you laughed. “You going to rest for a little while? I can only imagine the case you had if it’s been five days.”

“I desperately need some sleep. Then I’ll read a book or two.”

“Show off.”

“Sorry,” he replied, thinking he overstepped.

You shook your head. “Spencer, I was kidding. I think it’s amazing, I’m just jealous.”

“Oh,” he chuckled nervously. “I have a hard time with social cues.”

“It’s okay. They’re annoying, I know. Maybe read The Graveyard Book so you can give it to me at dinner.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Sweet dreams, Spencer. I’m about to go eat my weight in Kraft Mac and Cheese and unpack boxes.”

He yawned and excused himself. “That sounds amazing. We should do that sometime. Eat our weight in mac and cheese.”

“It’s a date.”  
\----  
Later that night, after convincing Piper that she could not in fact be your third wheel, you met up with Spencer...by opening your doors. “That was easy,” you giggled. “You get a good nap?”

“I slept for four hours. It was amazing.”

He still looked a little sleepy, but much happier and more comfortable, his muscles slack and his outfit more breezy. From what you imagined, he wore suits and similar formal wear to work, but now he was wearing jeans and a t-shirt with a black blazer on top. God, he was cute. You wanted to kiss him. “So where do you want to eat? You know the food around here.”

“There’s a Thai place down the block that has some amazing pad thai. Especially if you like spice.”

“I love spice!” You replied, immediately excited.

Talking with Spencer was effortless. You could indulge your inner and outer nerd; just able to be completely and utterly yourself, which was rare. Normally, you had to put on some type of pretenses with everyone. 

At the restaurant, Spencer told you about the case, though not in too much detail, for both him and you. “I just don’t want to put those images in your head, you know?”

You nodded, handing the menus back to the waiter after placing your order. “I get that. Just know that going forward, as long as this goes forward, you don’t always have to shoulder the crap you deal with alone.”

“Thank you,” he said softly, placing his hand over yours.

The somber moment lingered for a few more seconds, but then he switched the subject, asking about your childhood and your relationships with your family. Given his genius, child prodigy status, you imagined his childhood was less idyllic than yours and he was living through you. Then you ordered pad thai that was just a little too hot for you and you both devolved into uncontrollable laughter as you fanned your mouth and begged the waiter for some milk to quench the Sahara desert on your tongue. “Some dessert might also help soothe the burn,” the waiter suggested.

“You had me at dessert, Sir,” you said unabashedly. “I’ll have the mango sticky rice.”

“Same for me,” Spencer replied. The waiter walked away, giggling under his breath about the woman who couldn’t tolerate spice. “You feeling better?” He asked. “I thought you said you love spice.”

“I do! I’m just not great with it.”

Thankfully, the mango sticky rice soothed the remainder of the burn in your throat and then Spencer picked up the bill. You asked to go half and half, but he insisted the first real date be on him and from here on out you could go Dutch. “Do you know where the phrase ‘going Dutch’ comes from?” He continued excitedly when you shook your head. “The origin of the phrase ‘to go Dutch’ is traced back to the 17th century when England and the Netherlands fought constantly over trade routes and political boundaries. The British use of the term ‘Dutch’ had a negative connotation for because the Netherlanders were said to be stingy.”

“That’s actually really interesting. You know I actually thought about going into linguistics at one point, but I loved reading as a whole too much to focus on words rather than stories as a whole.”

Spencer’s credit card was returned and you got up to leave, your fingers slipping back into his own. “I actually work with a linguist right now named Alex Blake. I think you two would get along.”

“She’s a Ph.D. too? Oh my god, please introduce me sometime. I’d love to nerd out with her.” The walk back to the apartment complex was easy and transportive, your conversation bringing you back to childhood - in its simplicity. 

You’d been up and down the stairs a million times today, so the walk up hurt you more than it did him. “My body is going to ache in the morning,” you laughed, leaning up against him outside your door. You didn’t even realize you were doing it until you pulled away. 

When you met his gaze again, you saw something different than before. “You’re gonna kiss me, aren’t you?”

Spencer smiled and leaned forward, angling your mouth toward his. Your lips touched tentatively before you moved in closer, placing your hand on the side of his neck. He pulled away, his mouth tightening into that kind of smile where you’re trying not to grin like an idiot and failing.   
“You have nice lips. Do that again.”

Some time passed, how much you weren’t sure, but you only stopped when you heard other footsteps coming your way. “So, you think you might want another date?” He asked, his voice soft and dreamy. 

“Definitely. Do you have work tomorrow?”

“As of right now, no.”

“Wanna come over tomorrow morning and do breakfast? I have to unpack a lot still, but I make killer blueberry pancakes.”

“Looking forward to it. Eight o’clock?”

“Sounds good,” you replied, swallowing hard as he pulled away to return to his own apartment. “I’ll text you if anything changes with work.”

You nodded and grabbed your keys, hearing the jingle of Spencer’s own as you both opened your doors, glancing back toward each other with simultaneous smiles.


End file.
